


Abandoned

by Soldier2099



Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Catholicism, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Religion, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-14 21:20:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17516072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soldier2099/pseuds/Soldier2099
Summary: Matt is afraid he'll soon cross the line, he's even more afraid of not being able to do anything about it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing a fic! 
> 
> There should be more of these two interacting so I thought I'd give it a shot. 
> 
> This is more of a short intro, the updates will get longer and more descriptive. 
> 
> There'll be more to come, let me know your thoughts!

Frank lay awake and bothered, letting out a huff. It had now been a few hours, painfully waiting for sleep to take him. The bed creaked as he turned to lay on his side, his gaze set on the clock. 

3:45 am. Great. 

He groaned, shifting his weight to lay on his back.  
What the hell was he doing here? Same hotel, three nights in a row. He'd been sloppy, sleep deprived, much more confused than normal. 

He found himself reaching under his pillow for his gun. He pushed himself to sit up, focusing on the feeling of cold metal against his hand.

It had been too long since he last saw them, Maria and the kids. He'd finished his work down here. He had to be honest with himself, he was stalling. 

3:53 am.

Shaking his head, he placed the gun down by his side, rubbing his rough, calloused hands up and down his face. 

He wouldn't sleep much that night.  
\---------------------

"I've done something irreversible, father." Matt confessed, tilting his head. "Or, at least, it seems that way."

Father Lantom stayed silent, waiting for Matt to elaborate on his own. 

Matt gripped his walking stick, placing his hands on the top, folded over one another. "I've pushed out everyone I've ever cared for but I did it in their interest. To protect them." 

"They asked that of you Matthew, or did you make that decision on your own?"

"My own.." 

Father Lantom sighed, "Sit with me Matthew.." he took a seat in a pew, Matt reluctantly did the same. 

"You're full of anger, Matthew.." Father Lantom began, lowering his voice. "You must be at peace with the past, at peace with your friends, hold onto them, God knows you need it." 

Matt shook his head, pursing his lips tightly together, "Father, I-" he paused then shook his head once more. "I'm not sure the Lord knows what I'm truly up against, what's truly at stake. He doesn't-" 

"The Lord knows you Matthew, he knows your every thought before you think it. Have faith in that. Pray to him for guidance- he'll help you mend your relationships as well as start new ones."

\-----------------------

After their talk, Matt thanked Father Lantom for his advice before making his way to the exit. He was quite surprised when he heard a familiar heartbeat on the other side of the door. He stood stationary, wanting the other to come forward.

It wasn't normal for Frank to hesitate. 

He heard scuffling on the other side, restless combat boots making hesitant steps. A groan, a sigh, muttered obscenities. 

Matt couldn't help but smile. What was he doing here? Was the Punisher here to ask for forgiveness?

Frank eventually decided it was time, even if he didn't exactly know why he was here. He huffed then opened the door with a loud creak. He immediately let out a groan, "Murdock." 

Matt gave his cheeky smile, "The one and only.. what's the big, bad Punisher doing here? If I might ask." 

Frank tilted his head back, shoving his hands onto his jean pockets, standing with his shoulders square. "Fuck you.. I was just leaving.." he muttered a few other things under his breath before turning to leave. 

"Hey- Frank-" Matt grabbed his bicep out of impulse, "Sorry.. is everything alright? Why did you come here?" For Frank to turn up at a Catholic church, there had to be something wrong. 

Frank looked down at Matt, trying to see his eyes through the dark red shades. Telling the truth would probably lighten the weight, but then again, he wasn't a weak bitch. "Came to take a shit in one of these pews, why else? And to uh, ask the priest where I can buy a fucking indulgence." 

Matt frowned, annoyed and slightly angered by his answer. "Insufferable, I don't know why I even try." He spat out. "You come to my church just to disrespect-" his head twitched to the side and he shifted his shoulders, "Out of my way, Frank." His knuckles whitened as he tightly grasped his walking stick.

"Woah, woah- Red, calm down.. jus' a joke, right? I'm not going to take a shit on your precious pews.." Why was he getting so worked up? Was he really that bent on a dumbass joke? The devil must have been wide awake this morning, eager to bite back. 

Matt took a step back, his head tilted down towards the ground, "I.." he took a moment to recollect himself, his bottom lip quivered for just a moment, "I don't think it's too long since I end up like you." He whispered through one breath then pushed past him, staff tapping against the ground.

Frank huffed, what was that all about? There's no way he caused that with a dumb remark, there had to be something else heavy on the devil's mind. 

"Red." Frank went after him, "Red, listen." He insisted, Matt just walked faster. 

"I'm not chasing you 'round, Murdock." He raised his voice a bit, "So what? You thinking 'bout killing someone, Red? That it?" 

Matt led him out of the church, still not acknowledging Frank. 

"You need help? I got a few new guns that'll make the job pretty, it'll get easier the more ya do it, Red."

That was it. 

Matt abruptly turned to face Frank, teeth grit and eyebrows narrowed. "You really don't want me on your bad side Frank, I already don't approve of your methods." He seethed. 

Frank stepped forward, his stare could've bore holes into Matt's skull. "I know."

Matt tilted his head in a confused manner, almost surprised by Frank's response. "Then why-" 

"Murdock, shut up and listen. You're too good to be like me. And if... If someone like you-" he planted a finger in Matt's chest. "can end up like me..." He snorted at the thought, shaking his head, "Then..." 

"There's no hope for any of us..." Matt finished, taking Frank's hand to push it away from his chest. "But I-" he pressed his lips together, "I really can't hold onto what makes me good for much longer. It's hopeless, I pray and pray and the more I do-" He took a sharp intake of breath, "I feel abandoned by God, I feel abandoned by this city, I feel," Matt didn't realize how worked up he was getting, how much his eyes were tearing up, how his words became shaky and his lips quivered; he was focused on getting the words out. "Abandoned." 

The only reaction Frank offered was stepping forward and wrapping his arms around Matt. As expected, Matt latched onto Frank, burying his head into his shoulder so he wouldn't be able to hear his weak, desperate sobs.

The Devil of Hell's Kitchen crying on Frank Castle's shoulder. 

For once Matt was glad for Frank's heartbeat, strong and firm, consistent and steady. He focused on pushing out the surrounding noise, only allowing the sound of Frank's beating heart to flood his ears. And in doing so, only noticable with all his attention directed towards it, he sensed a faint flutter of emotion. 

Oh God.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been a while since Matt had gotten down on his knees by his bedside to pray before he slept. It wasn't that he didn't pray, he did, standing up. Kneeling was much more intimate, submissive, devout. 

His bed wasn't spread, it was a mess since early morning when he first got up. Today was long and dragged out, it was all a blur expect for the morning. This morning. Matt winced, folding his hands in one another and pressing them against his forehead.

"Lord I-" Matt hesitated, gingerly bringing a hand up to remove his glasses and set them on the bed with care. The corner of his mouth twitched at the sound of car horns, an angry woman pounding her fist against a door downstairs, feet against pavement, a slam, a crash, a- 

He let out a strangled cry, slamming his fists on the mattress, "Shut up- Lord make them shut up so that I may speak with you!" He took in sharp, quick breaths, letting his head fall on the bed. Eyes fluttering closed, he sighed and focused on pushing out background noise. Despite it being so late at night, it felt as busy as during the day; the city never slept.

When it was silent enough, Matt lifted his head up, cocking it to the side. It was no use, he wouldn't get an answer. He noticed how heavy his eyelids felt and huffed then pulled himself up onto the bed, quickly disappearing underneath the blanket. Fluffing his pillow, he grunted then decided to wrap his arms tightly around it, allowing his eyes to close. 

As soon as he got comfortable, the events from the morning came rushing back in. He cringed, biting his bottom lip in embarrassment. How was he going to live with this? He hated the fact that he couldn't keep himself from contemplating what the irregularity in Frank's heartbeat meant. It could've meant anything, right? Maybe he was consumed with overwhelming hunger and that just happened to be while he was... Embracing Matt. 

Matt groaned and rolled over, tangling the blanket around himself. Fr- the Punisher didn't have feelings, especially not ones like that, Matt reminded himself. He was everything opposite of what Matt stood for. Yet he offered to walk him home after his breakdown, he walked him up the stairs, even pushed his glasses up for him when they were slipping. 

"I should've invited him over for coffee." Matt whispered to himself mindlessly the responding to himself by slapping his forehead, "The Punisher and coffee, what is my life?" He breathed. 

He should've hated how good that sounded.   
\---------------------------------------

Frank pressed his back against the rugged wall adjacent to his bed, clutching his guitar in his hands. He gently twisted a tuning peg, eyes closed as he concentrated on the sound when he plucked the string. A corner of his mouth hinted at a smile and he relaxed, sitting in silence for a moment as he thought about what he'd play. 

He began strumming and cleared his throat. 

Matt tapped his walking stick against the ground. He'd checked a few of Frank's hideouts, each time having to remind himself why he was seeking out the man. Coffee. Or to check on him and make sure no one else knew about Matt breaking down. He had pride and a reputation, it really wasn't a good look. That's why he was looking for Frank. That was the absolute only reason. Only reason. 

As he neared another location, an abandoned gas station that Frank had claimed, Matt stopped in his tracks. He twitched then tilted his head. 

"Another hard day, no water, no rest" 

Singing? A familiar voice was singing.. and a familiar heartbeat was playing guitar. 

"I saw my chance, so I got him at last" 

Matt took cautious steps forward to the entrance of the station, not wanting Frank to hear him and stop. 

"I took his six shooter, put two in his chest" 

Matt let out a small sigh, he disapproved of the lyrics but he could darn well appreciate the voice. 

"He'll never say a word no more" 

Such a rustic, beautiful voice. Lowly and-

"Oh, he'll never say a word no more"

Matt carefully leaned against the door, he could hear him from a ways back but he wanted Frank's voice to over power every other sound that entered his ears. To be the only thing he focused on. 

"The devil got him good for sure" 

Matt bit his lip and allowed himself to enter into a trance. It was short lived and he was brought back by a sudden stop of strumming and a sigh.

"Hey Red." Frank whispered then tilted his head back to rest against the wall. "You do remember I have cameras set up..." He huffed. 

Matt froze then glanced up, heat rushing to his neck and cheeks although he'd deny it. "Yeah..." He breathed to himself then stepped inside, taking his time walking over to the small room Frank was in. Gripping his staff with both hands, he stood in the doorway. 

The warmth of a few open windows greeted him, small gusts of wind entering through it. Frank's heartbeat was steady, as always; he was peaceful, the guitar probably had a lot to with that. Matt found himself wanting to hear more and forgetting why he came in the first place. "Frank-" 

Frank interrupted Matt by starting to strum his guitar with a gentle touch, letting his eyes close. "You were out there for a whole stanza, Red." He breathed, his posture and tone were surprisingly peaceful.  
"I didn't want to interrupt you." Matt leaned against the inside of the doorway. "You're so at peace right now, that's unlike you." 

Frank stopped playing, shaking his head before placing the guitar down in front of him on the bed.   
His heartbeat stayed the same but he radiated anxious, negative energy; as if he was pushed to mask any other feeling besides what he normally gave off. 

"Sorry, I-"Matt began. 

"Why're you here, huh?" The wind seemed to stop suddenly as if Frank's bellowing voice forced it out. "You here to break down again?"

Matt shook his head, "No." He stood up straight, squaring his shoulders and ever so slightly puffing out his chest. "I came to thank you for not being an asshole yesterday." 

Frank let out a puff of a laugh, "Sure, sure. You're here to make sure I don't tell no one." He leaned back against the wall, "I'm not, if you knew me you'd know that." 

"I know. I just wanted to thank you and your singing made the trip worth it." Matt responded humorously. 

Frank tensed, big mistake. "You know what?" He shrugged then squinted at Matt, "You got what you want now, so be on your way now, yeah?" Matt could sense his uncomfort, the way he forced out words through single breaths and rubbed his hands together. 

Matt bit his bottom lip, "Frank." He felt around for the chair he sensed next to him and sat down; he shouldn't be doing this. "Why were you at the church yesterday?" He asked in a calm, sincere voice. He was careful with his words and tone, genuinely interested.

Frank’s expression tightened,, “You don't know when to shut up, Red.” He reached underneath his pillow without hesitation and grabbed the gun then pointed it at Matt, finger on the trigger. 

Matt held up his hands, leaning back in the chair. "Frank- I'm not here to patronize you, you don't have to tell me." He assured calmly. 

"You're damn right I don't." He tightened the grip on his gun for a moment then slowly placed it down on the bed. "Now get out." He said sternly, adding weight behind each word. 

Matt stayed seated, leaning forward and tilting his head in Frank's direction, confident that Frank wouldn't hurt him. Not that it mattered. "Frank.. there's only one bullet in that gun.. why do you keep it under your pillow?" He whispered, now concerned.

Frank swallowed, "The fuck does that mean?" He stood up, "I'll only need one shot." 

"For what?" Matt raised his eyebrows. 

Frank groaned, "For whoever comes here when I'm asleep or some shit." His words were uncertain, that couldn't be the reason he kept the gun under his pillow when he had fully loaded ones underneath and at the foot of the bed sitting on the floor. 

"What if three people were to come? You have one bullet in that gun." Matt humored the answer. 

"I'd make it work before I grab another." Frank retorted then leaned back unconfidently. 

"That's not practical, and you know it." Matt laughed bitterly, "You're lying to me, wanna know what I think?" He placed his elbows on his knees, getting in Frank's space. "I think you're bored. I think you've reached your goal and there's nothing left. I think you're suicidal."

Frank averted his eyes briefly, then let out a small laugh, not responding. Matt twitched at the fluctuation in Frank's heartbeat then leaned forward and took hold of the gun. It felt uncomfortably cold against his hands and he winced. "Non religious people tend to question whether or not what the Bible says is true when they're close to death. Or when they have nothing to live for." Matt stood up then gently placed the gun in Frank's lap, "I don't want to find you dead." He whispered.

“What does it matter to you?” Frank's voice wavered ever so slightly, his gaze focused on the gun on his thigh. “I wouldn't be here to kill anymore, you’d like that right? I'm always gettin’ in your way.” 

Matt chewed his bottom lip, shaking his head. “I disapprove of killing, yes. But the people you kill…” he sighed then sat down next to him, leaning forward and hanging his head. “God forgive me but they probably deserve it.” he laughed weakly. “And I have to admit, your method…” he swallowed hard, “Works.”

Frank picked up the gun and chuckled, glancing at Red then at the gun. He snorted then tossed it on the bed. “You're somethin’, Red. I ain't suicidal.” He was lying, Matt knew but for the sake of not wanting to start anything, he simply nodded. 

“I'll be praying for you, Frank.” Matt said softly then stood and gently pat his shoulder. 

“Yeah, yeah.. you do whatever you want choirboy.” He took his guitar by the neck. 

Matt tilted his head, gripping his stick tightly, “One more thing, Frank.” 

Frank raised an eyebrow, looking up at Matt. 

Matt felt his gaze and shifted uncomfortably. Why was he nervous all of a sudden? “Um.” He croaked, his mouth now felt awfully dry. “Coffee- you and I sometime?” 

Frank snickered, “You're kidding.” He paused then shrugged, “Eh, doesn't sound bad, I'll go if you stop showing up here- much rather have a beer though. 

Matt smiled at his success, “Coffee first. See you soon, Frank." He turned and quickly left the station, his staff tapping against the ground. He couldn't help but smile to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not the most talented writer but I'll be trying to improve while writing this. 
> 
> Let me know what you think! I'm not all too sure where this story is headed.


	3. Chapter 3

It was about midday when Matthew climbed in through the window that belonged to a small room in the back of the church. Eager to talk to Father Lantom, he almost gave the old man a heart attack. 

“Goodness Matthew-” Father Lantom clutched his coffee tightly in a startled manner. 

Matthew stood up straight and fixed his tie, patting down his pants, “My apologies, Father.” He offered an apologetic smile. 

Father Lantom kept the room neat and tidy, the bed was always spread with clean sheets if Matthew ever had to make a surprise appearance and needed somewhere to stay. “So…” Lantom began, “Have you spoke with Franklin or Karen yet? Have you even been to your law firm?” 

Matt let his mouth hang for a moment, “No- but I um…” he smiled reassuringly, “I'm going for coffee sometime, with a friend.” He wouldn't dare mention who that “friend” was, he already almost gave the priest a heart attack. 

The priest sighed, “That's good, small steps Matthew. “God will guide you through the rest. Did you need anything from me?” 

Matthew felt around for the bed, placing down his cane before he sat down. “My friend, I can tell he's not doing well. We both aren't doing well, mentally.” He bit his bottom lip with uneasiness; Frank was suicidal and well- Matthew felt close to following in his moral footsteps. He hadn't put on the devil suit for a few days, he knew it was selfish and wrong. If he chose to, he doubt he'd be able to stop himself from crossing the line. 

Matt didn't realize he was shaking till he felt the priest's gentle hand on his shoulder. “It's okay Matthew, breathe.” He whispered comfortingly, slowly removing his hand. A new presence abruptly entered his senses and he frowned. Matt's head twitched in the direction of the door, “Is she here?” He asked even though he already knew. 

Father Lantom walked over to the door and opened it, letting sister Maggie in. “Father-” she froze when she saw Matt but soon relaxed and smiled. 

Matt chewed on his bottom lip, turning his head away from her and pushing his glasses up. They still didn't have the best relationship, he continued to direct anger towards her as well as long for her at the simultaneously. 

Sister Maggie hesitantly walked over to the bed and sat down beside Matt. He shifted uncomfortably, still chewing his bottom lip. Right now she was the last person he wanted to talk to. He knew he wouldn't break down but there was always the possibility. “I think I should get going.” Matt muttered abruptly then stood up, holding his cane. 

“Matthew.” Maggie stood up with him and wrapped her hand around his bicep, “Matthew, are you alright?” She asked quietly, “You don't have to leave so soon.” 

Matthew laughed bitterly, he didn't feel like dealing with this right now. “I'm fine, sister. I've got things to do, I'm done here.” He spat out his words. Anger was the only way to suppress everything he wished he could feel at the moment. He decided to give in just a little, taking Maggie's hand briefly. His demeanor changed and his shoulders relaxed from his hostile stance. “I'll see you another time.” He spoke cautiously then pulled back his hand and turned on his heel, heading out through the door. 

“You always have a place here, Matthew.” Maggie whispered hopefully, knowing he'd be able to hear her. 

No, no he wouldn't, he thought to himself. He couldn't, not anymore. 

\--------------------------

Frank couldn't ignore his gut feeling telling him that the devil would be out and about that night. The way Matt confronted him that morning confirmed as much; the tone of his voice when he admitted killing works, as if he had just realized. 

Frank chuckled. 

He wouldn't allow Matt to go on the path he had been forced on. For him, it wasn't a choice; for Matt, it was. Everytime Matt left someone alive after the greatest beating of their life was a choice. When Frank killed, it was out of necessity. It was the only way to be sure that the scum of the Earth he came into contact with would never be able to put others in harm's way. It wasn't a choice. 

Frank scratched his scalp with frustrated fingers, groaning to himself. 

Fuck no, he wouldn't allow Matt to live this empty, lonely life. He didn't deserve it, in fact, Frank was convinced no one did. The only thing he knew is that he could handle it, and he was inevitably meant for this life. That is, if he was meant for anything. 

He let out a quiet sigh, shifting his shoulder, and with a trained eye, staring out through the scope. “Show yourself, damnit.” Frank grunted under his breath. If Matt was out doing God's deeds dressed in a devil's suit, he'd be around the area. He'd heard of a drug deal going on near the building he was on top of. He didn't get involved and wasn't going to unless Matt showed up, this wasn't his fight. 

Speak of the devil. 

Frank caught a glimpse of red for just a second in his scope and pulled back. Matt was jumping from building to building parallel from Frank, moving with ease and grace. As much as Frank wanted to let out a groan, he kept it in to keep his cover. 

Then Matt stopped going and Frank quickly moved his eye back to watching through the scope. The red figure knelt down and tilted his head to the side. Some ‘ninja mumbo jumbo blind lawyer shit’ was the only way Frank knew how to describe what Matt did. 

The devil crept over to the edge of the building, head tilted downward. What the hell was he hearing? He shot up abruptly and did some acrobatic shit to fling himself off of the building. Frank rolled his eyes; show off. 

For a moment Frank questioned why he was actually there, Matt didn't need protecting. So what if Matt ended up killing someone? It wasn't Frank's fault, he didn't push him to do so. But he was also already there, sitting up on a rooftop watching the devil scurry around. He quickly convinced himself he was there for a reason when he heard a blood curdling scream from down below.

“Here we go.” 

\----------------------------------

Matt tightened his grip around the man's neck, pressing him up against the wall. 

“I-I swear- I'm just the messenger. I needed a job- that's all- I don-” the man frantically spoke in horror. 

“You're lying!” Matt growled, he squeezed even harder for a moment then threw him to the ground violently. “All of you are.”  
He took out his billy club; he was going to do this. “And if I let you go, you're just going to go back at it.” He launched onto the man and struck his chest first with the club to see if he could with the intent to kill. The man cried out in pain, coughing up blood, “Pl-please-” 

The devil raised his hands, wrapped firmly around the club, and was ready to strike his skull. He didn't get the chance to through, dropping the club and rolling off of the man, screaming hysterically. The ringing, the skull splitting sound, oh God make it stop. Convinced he was dying, Matt yanked off his mask and dug his fingers into his scalp; as if trying to keep his head from breaking in two. 

Frank stepped forward, wincing at the sight of Matt. “I didn't want to do it.” He whispered, possibly to reassure himself that his choice was correct. Killing was reserved for Frank, only Frank. He kept the high frequency on, walking cautiously towards Matt. He writhed on the floor in pain, letting out screams Frank never wanted to hear ever again.

He couldn't do it, Frank turned off the frequency and dropped to his knees by Matt's side, who now lay limp on the ground. “Red?” Frank gently placed a hand on his shoulder. Matt whipped his head to the side and bit down hard on the flesh of Frank's hand; hard enough to rip off skin and draw blood.

“Fuck!-” Frank yanked his hand back, quickly pulling out extra fabric from his coat and wrapping it around his hand in order to stop the bleeding. 

Matt struggled to sit up, falling a few times before he was able to prop himself up, streaks of tears occupied his face; another thing Frank never wanted to see again. “Hello?” Matt croaked, “Hello- oh my god- hello!?” He felt around, “I can't- I cant-” he raised his voice. 

Shit.

Frank came quickly to his side, again gently placing a hand on his shoulder. Matt flinched then tensed, catching his breath before trying to figure out how to identify whoever was touching him. “F-Frank?” He inhaled deeply. 

Frank hesitated then took Matt's hand and pressed it against his own cheek, just long enough to nod in response. Matt exhaled in relief and leaned forward, “I can't hear-” he rasped, “My head, i-it's never been this bad.” he spoke his words carefully, not being able to hear himself. 

Frank guiltily rubbed up and down his face with his hand, “Fuck.” He whispered to himself. “I had to do it.” He glanced over at the man Matt had just beat- oh God.

Frank rose to his feet, ignoring Matt who was holding his head in his hands, whimpering in pain. No, no, no- he'd been too late. 

The man lay lifelessly in a pool of his own blood, pouring out from his chest. Frank convinced himself Matt didn't strike him with the intent to kill; the man could've been saved. 

The devil had killed a man.

The choice between life and death belonged to him, it always had. 

Red killed a man.

Frank knelt down next to the man's side, he was young. It was not hard to tell, Frank knew innocence when he saw it, he's seen the nature of people twisted and screwed with- he knew the difference. The man spewed out innocence, ripped out from him in it's pure crimson form. Matt hadn't even lost it on the scum of the earth. 

Matthew Murdock killed an innocent man. 

The devil screaming Frank's name brought him out of his head and over to Matt's side. “F-Frank- where are you?” He winced, struggling to get up on his feet. Frank placed his hands on Matt's shoulders so he wouldn't fall over. Taking one of Matt's hand, he pressed it against his own neck, “Here, do you know what I'm saying?” Frank rumbled. 

Matt nodded, feeling every small vibration against his finger tips and was able to under what Frank was saying. “He really screwed my head up..” Matt spoke slowly, pressing his fingertips against Frank's neck.

Frank fought with himself for only a moment then nodded, “Yeah…” he pressed his lips together so he'd stop talking, he'd tell Matt it was him later. With Matt having bit his hand, there was no hiding that it was him. Of course he'd leave out some details… some important details. 

“I'm taking you to my place, it's close.” Frank stared down at Matt, watching his face twitch as he registered Frank's words before agreeing with a slight nod of his head. 

Without telling him, Frank scooped up the Devil in his arms and was met with surprisingly little protest. Matt let his head fall against Frank's shoulder and he reached up a hand to place on Frank's neck, “You smell like blood.” He noted and Frank simply replied with a grunt, looking down at the dead body once more before trudging away with the devil in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are really starting to develop, let me know your thoughts!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They both give in.

Matt awoke with a gasp, yanking himself up to sit, chest heaving as he struggled to breathe. His head pounded, feeling as though it was still trying to mend itself back together after last night. Last night… he gingerly lifted a hand to snap. The sound echoed in his ear for a moment then turned into a piercing ring. He winced, scrunching up his face in discomfort; he could hear now, but his ears were still sensitive. 

After evaluating the state he was in, he took in his surroundings. Fingers curled around the cotton blanket, it scratched his skin; uncomfortable. The room felt small and narrow; claustrophobic. It reeked of gunpowder and overly greased eggs. Eggs. 

Matt tilted his head to the sound of a heartbeat, steady and firm. Frank. He forced himself to get on his feet, stumbling forward and ending up on his hands and knees. His balance was off and he couldn't map out his surroundings. “Frank…” he groaned in a small voice. 

Just a few seconds later, Frank walked in the room. “Red.” He huffed in acknowledgement, placing the plate of eggs down on the nightstand before carefully helping Matt up and sitting him on the bed. 

“My head.” Matt whispered, reaching out his hands to find Frank, they ended up on his waist. “No loud sounds.”

Frank stood stiff, glancing down at Matt's hands then at his face. Matt was keeping his eyes closed, his eyebrows furrowed. “Alright.” He mumbled under his breath then took a step back, escaping Matt's grasp. “You can open your eyes, y'know.” Frank whispered.

Matt promptly shook his head, “I'd rather not..” he breathed then grabbed for a pillow, taking the pillowcase off so he could wrap it around the top half of his face. 

Frank watched as he did this and rolled his eyes, “Really? You don't need that, you're with me.” He whispered in a tone that was sure of himself. “And you look stupid as hell.” He added for good measure.

“I'm blind, Frank. My eyes…” he paused, “I'll take it off if you give me some shades.” 

Frank groaned, “High maintenance lawyer…” he mumbled to himself as he dug around in the nightstand drawer. He pulled out a pair of green shades then stood in front of Matt. With gentle hands, Frank pulled off the pillowcase then placed the shades over his eyes. 

“Thank you.” Matt muttered reluctantly then brought himself to stand up, keeping a hand on the bed for support. He cocked his head to the side, “Your left hand… I smell blood.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Frank glanced down at it, “Ya smell everything. I'll be back in a moment, food's on the nightstand.” 

Matt found himself chewing on his bottom lip, “Last night…” 

Frank frowned, “Yeah?”

“Did I do that?” Matt grabbed Frank's hand, careful not to hurt him further. “I remember biting down and tasting blood but I-” 

“Yeah.” Frank answered simply, no use in lying, he was going to tell him the whole- most of the truth later., “I'll live, don't you worry Red.” He humored. “It was my fault, I startled you.” 

“If I would've known it was you, I wouldn't have done that…” Matt's voice got lower. He gently dropped his hand, bringing his own up to place on Frank's face. “Do you mind if I see you?” He bit his lip. “If-” he pressed his lips together, choosing his words carefully, “If anything like that happens again- knowing what you look like would help. You'd just have to put my hands on your face, I'd know you're a… friend.” he felt the need to offer an explanation even if it wasn't entirely truthful. 

Frank wondered if Matt could feel the slight change in temperature on his face with the tips of his fingers. The change in his demeanor, the pink color spreading from his cheeks to his neck. “If it helps.” Frank forced out. 

Matt ran his thumbs over the bags underneath Frank's eyes, slightly sunken in. They ended up on his prominent cheekbones before he glided his fingers down his cheeks, thumb over his chin, lips. His lips, beautifully shaped, small but plump in their own way. They complimented his facial structure. Matt smiled slightly at the thought then ran his fingers over the rigid bumps of his nose that had been broken over, and over, and over again.  
Frank's breath caught when Matt caressed his cheek with one hand and ran his fingers across Frank's brow bone. 

After Matt was content with mapping out Frank's face with his hands, he hummed. “You're handsome.” He said matter-of-factly. 

Frank took a step back, shaking his head. No, they were definitely not fucking doing this. “I gotta go take care of uh,” he held up his bandaged hand, “My hand- stitches.” He swiftly left the room, and oh God, his heart. Matt could probably hear how fast it thumped. If so he was dead, outed, over. Fuck. 

Matt pressed his lips tightly together again then grabbed the plate of eggs and tasted some cautiously. He groaned, grease burnt the back of his throat. He put it back on the nightstand then smiled proudly to himself, listening to Frank's lively heartbeat and muttered curses when he fucked up his stitches. He couldn't help but blush, knowing that he did that to him. But Matt couldn't actually be in love with someone like Frank; a murderer. And they both had one too many personal problems where it just wouldn't work out. 

Matt groaned, then walked over to Frank's guitar and picked it up. He plucked a string to see how the sound would affect his hearing. It was fine, pleasant even. He wanted to hear Frank play and sing again, maybe he convince him to over breakfast; because he was going to have to go out to a diner if he wanted something decent. 

Eventually Frank came back to the room with a newly bandaged and stitched hand and Matt's head perked up in response. “I'm not eating those eggs.” 

Frank rolled his eyes once again, “Not good enough for you, sunshine?” 

Matt shook his head, “I'd rather not eat eggs marinated in grease, I was thinking we could eat out if that's up to your standards.” He teased with a playful smile. 

Frank looked Matt up and down and laughed, “Sure, but you're gonna have to put on some normal clothes, Red.” 

Matt raised an eyebrow then ran his hands up and down his chest, how had he not noticed? Fine. “Do you have anything I could wear? Anything comfortable?” 

“Uh…” Frank scratched the back of his head, “Should have somethin’” he grabbed one of the suitcases in the corner and zipped it open. He pulled out a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt then threw them in Matt's direction. Not being able to hear correctly, he sensed only the shirt and caught it then leaned down to pick up the pants. “This is going to be hell on my skin right now-” he tossed the jeans back.

Frank huffed, digging around for something different and found a pair of sweats then threw them at Matt. Matt's face lit up, “This'll do.” First he slipped off the suit, letting it pool around his feet and stood in his boxers. Frank's shifted uncomfortably, not knowing how to feel, or how he was feeling. He'd never looked at a man's body how he was looking at Matt's, he didn't know what exactly made it special. Was it the fact that it belonged to Matt? Or was it just the fact that he was incredibly fit with the whole abs deal?  
Frank shrugged at his own thought.

“You're staring.” Matt noted as he held the shirt in his hands, already having put on the sweatpants. Frank looked down for a moment then looked back at his ches- him. “You gotta lot of scars.” he deflected.

“Yeah, I do.” Matt paused, I'm guessing you do too?” He slipped on the black T-shirt then stood awkwardly, arms hanging by his sides as if he'd forgotten the purpose of them.

“Yeah.” Frank answered in one breath. “You good to go, Red?” 

Matt nodded then knelt down to put on his shoes before joining Frank and walking out the door. As soon as he did he was assaulted with noises, causing him to almost lose his balance. He was immediately dizzy, not in pain, just unaware of his surroundings. “Frank-” he reached out a hand and gripped his arm tightly. “I need your arm.” 

“Oh. Right.” Frank allowed him to wrap his hand around the crook of his elbow, “You alright, Red?”  
Matt answered with a palm placed flat against Frank's chest, “I will be.” He focused on Frank's steady heartbeat, using the consistent sound to ground himself.

Frank stood stiff, staring down at Matt, noting how well the green shades went with his fiery hair. Soft, flowy red hair, he wanted to run his fingers through it, kiss the top of his head; bring him back inside and- no. Frank shook those thoughts out, as he did Matt twitched, chewing on his bottom lip. “Your heartbeat is throwing me off.” He whispered, pulling his hand back. “Oh- that smell-” he pinched his nose, shaking his head back and forth. “Greasy hot dogs, day old grease- and he hasn't cleaned his equipment in weeks. It's all over-” 

What was Matt going on about? Frank looked around; he had to squint in order to see a hot dog stand in the distance. Jesus, Matt's senses were in overdrive. “Hey, Red. Let's uh, go back inside. I don't think you can handle this right now, alright? We'll go out when you're sorted.”

Matt mumbled something about the man serving hot dogs before agreeing (being forced) to go back inside. “I'm starving.” He complained, feeling around for a place to sit, finding the bed.

“I'll order shit then pick it up, sunshine.” Frank huffed, rolling his eyes. Again. It seemed to be a habit around Matt.

Matt laid down on the bed and buried his head into Frank's pillow, inhaling deeply in order to get the greasy smell out and replace it with the smell of… Frank. Earlier his heartbeat was irregular, Matt knew Frank felt some kind of way for him. He needed to confirm his suspicions, not wanting to give whatever hope he had up. Here goes nothing.

“Frank?” Matt sat up, head moving from side to side, twitching. He snapped his fingers next to his ear, “I-I hello?” He breathed weakly, his breathing started to pick up. Just needed Frank to come over. He needed to be sure.

Frank was on the phone, ordering take out and didn't notice what Matt was doing. 

“I-I can't hear…” Matt whispered, “I can't hear-” he raised his shaky voice.

Frank finished his order.

“Fr-Frank- Frank are you there?” He called out. Footsteps. 

Matt felt his hands being taken and placed against Frank's cheeks. Perfect. He ran his fingers over Frank's forehead then under his eyes up and down his cheekbones and lingered on his lips. Until he could hear a fluctuation in Frank's heartbeat. He was completely confident now and cupped Frank's face in his hands. “Frank?” He whispered and felt him nod in response. 

Matt slowly leaned forward, giving time for Frank to pull away if somehow he was misreading him. Lips close enough to feel his warm breath, Frank was leaning in, this was happening. 

“I ordered you food, I gotta go pick it up.” Frank muttered, “Can you hear me?”

Matt sat there stunned, Frank was so close to giving in. Or he was just playing with him.

“I-I yeah.” Matt whispered. 

Frank stayed silent for a moment, he wasn't an idiot and he wasn't going to play Matt's games.

“Stay here.” Frank mumbled, “Or don't.” 

Matt pressed his lips together, forming a firm line. He pushed up the shades Frank had given him then laid down, pulling the blanket over himself. “Come back soon, sunshine.” He mocked sweetly. 

\-----------------------------

When Frank comes back with food around a half an hour later, Matt is fast asleep in his bed, arms wrapped around a pillow. Frank gently placed the food down and took off his shoes before walking over to Matt. “Red?” He whispered, “You awake?” He knelt down once he didn't get a response, studying Matt's peaceful expression. The warm glow of the afternoon sun bounced off of his cheeks and Frank found himself ghosting fingertips over them. Feeling a sudden urge of protectiveness, Frank let out a small groan, resting his forehead against the edge of the bed. This couldn't be happening, he didn't actually like Matthew Murdock. He didn't. Plus, Matt could take care of himself, he didn't need the Punisher. He didn't need Frank. 

He didn't. 

But ever since Matt broke down in his arms he's been thinking about him more and more. How fragile he really was, the devil lived in him but there was still a lot of Matt. Frank was having trouble figuring out which one he was in love with; the devil or Matt. He let out a shaky sigh, could it be both?

 

Matt stirred, “Mm… Frank?” He breathed, then lazily reached out a hand and pressed it against Frank's chest. “Your heartbeat woke me up.” He mumbled sleepily, giving Frank a small smile, matching the tone of his voice. 

God damnit did Frank want to kiss him now; crawl in bed next to him and hold him close. He wanted to wake up with him in the same bed. He wanted to run his fingers through his hair while he described it to him in whispers that only Matt could hear. He wanted Matt. 

He hadn't felt this strongly about someone since Maria. 

Maria. 

A low grumble erupted from Frank's throat, “I got you food.” He said, stone faced. 

Matt had his mouth hanging open slightly, as if he wanted to say something not regarding the food. Instead he whispered his thanks then sat up, sitting in front of Frank. “My hearings still pretty-” 

“Don't ask me to feed you. I won't and you'll starve.” Frank practically spat out. He was so good at dealing with his feelings. 

“I-” Matt's mouth formed a flat line, “I was going to ask you to pass it to me.” 

Frank handed him the bag with a huff, getting up on his feet. “Once you're done, get the hell out.” 

Matt was stunned, there was no way he was reading Frank wrong earlier. His heart had fluttered around him too many times for Frank not to at least like him. 

“What's your problem?” Matt snapped, hands tightening around the bag; okay so this is how they were going to play it. 

“My problem?” Frank turned to look at him then let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head, “Nah, nah Red. We ain't doing this, you get out now once your done, yeah?” 

Matt set the bag down on the bed then stood up, keeping his lips together to form a firm line, matching his furrowed eyebrows. “Frank.” He started with a calm voice, “You wanna tell me how you feel about me? I can hear it in your heartbeat, I know you don't hate me- so what is it?”

Frank's heartbeat fluctuated before it was beating purely out of anger. “Anyone ever explain to you the concept of privacy, Red? Huh!?” He raised his voice, his hand tightening into a fist. “I don't want you listening to my heartbeat or my thoughts or whatever devil shit you do- you don't got my permission.”

Matt chewed on his bottom lip, he often didn't feel ashamed of his abilities, but at times like these, he couldn't help it. “It doesn't- I can't just turn it off-” he whispered, frustrated. 

“Then you can leave!” Frank roared and Matt pressed his finger tips to his head, hissing in pain. Frank's voice echoed in his head the worst way possible, turning into a high-pitched ringing that he was convinced would tear open his skull.

Frank automatically took a step forward, “Shit- Matt.” He whispered. Deep down he hated to see Matt in pain; and he hated himself even more for having caused it. Frank grabbed Matt's hands and placed them on his own face, “It's okay-”

Matt wanted so badly to pull his hands away, instead leaning forward and resting his head on Frank's shoulder, running his fingers over his face. “Frank..” he whispered breathlessly, “By now it's obvious how I feel. So just-” he paused, “Tell me- tell me to leave you alone if that's what you want.”

Frank hesitantly brought a hand up to the back of Matt's head and gently grabbed a handful of his hair. Softer than he thought it'd be.

“Frank-” 

“Shh…” Frank cooed then pressed his lips against Matt's cheek, “How I feel? Fine.” He whispered. “I dunno Red- I dunno if I wanna make out with you or put a bullet in your head.” he chuckled deeply. 

“I-I…” Matt let out a breathless laugh, “I like the first one.” He whispered before engulfing Frank in a rough kiss, wrapping his arms around his neck. He relaxed once Frank gave in as well, returning the kiss with the same amount of want. Matt then slightly pulled away, his lips parted. He rested his forehead against Frank's, lips curling up into a small smile, feeling Frank's warm breath against them.

“You still gotta eat, Red.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The boys still gotta go on that coffee date...
> 
> Comments help me keep going and let me know y'all want more!! :)


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